There is no need they say
but still you move
dragging your feet,
as tired as if you had finished
your late night shift
back in your youth.

You are old now
and your build isn’t like it was,
it has become history,
like the one you were part of
back when you were fighting for your country,
risking your life for others, for us.

But now they say there is no need
although still you move, wrinkled
with age,
as bossy as if lives
still depend on you.

But now it’s all gone,
sitting on your couch
watching what once was your life,
the aroma of gunpowder
corroding your lungs.

At your window
you wave us goodbye
like a soldier salute
with your wrinkled hands
full of bruises and scars
touching the cold glass
on a Saturday morning
as if you had forgotten
how to stop.